Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,9

sexual tension that should be in the shop today is Chris’s, when he sees my bomb-ass surprise. You know, the one you’re supposed to be helping with instead of making moon eyes at each other.”

Scalding heat flooded my chest and I glared at Dane. But Reagan laughed, albeit a bit higher and tighter than normal, and shrugged. “Fine, Dane. You’re such a drama queen.”

“Damned straight. Now come here, Channing, I’ve got some rose petals that aren’t going to spread themselves.”

We went to work, Dane directing us with a nervous tremor in his voice I rarely heard. This was a big deal for him, I realized. Huge, really. It made me all the more happy that he’d trusted me to help him with it. I’d grown up feeling like I barely had one brother, and now I had two who’d do anything for me. And here I was, doing anything for them. Anything, in this case, meant transforming the tattoo parlor into something akin to a Spanish soap opera set.

Balloons blown, rose petals spread, and one hundred candles lit later, I made a call to Christian.

“Hey, Channing, what’s up?”

I tried to sound panicked. “I know it's your day off, but something’s happened with one of Dane’s clients and he asked me to call you. I think Dane is afraid of being sued—”

Please don’t ask me what happened, please don’t ask me—

“Fuck. I’ll be right there.”

Ah, good ol’ Christian. Before he and Dane had finally accepted they were meant to be butt buddies for life, he’d have dragged his feet and wanted every detail over the phone. Anything to keep from facing his attraction to Dane. But now that they were married, his heart moved before his brain—at least where Dane was concerned.

Reagan sidled up beside me as I hung up the phone. “I don’t know about you, but now that Dane’s plan is in motion, I’m not super stoked about watching those two make out and tattoo. If you’re free, uh… do you want to grab some dinner and catch up?”

He cleared his throat right after asking, like maybe he wished he could take it back.

It was strange to be the one making him nervous, and it was empowering not being the one constantly off-kilter for once. But dinner would give me the opportunity I needed. If I was going to show him I was a man now, it meant not playing games. If he wanted to catch up, great. I’d catch him up to just how much I’d grown in the past few years.

“Sure,” I said, casual as hell. “Should I drive or will you?”

3

Reagan

We picked a Japanese restaurant nearby that I trusted to be a good middle ground between casual dinner with an old friend and date. Because if I picked too expensive, it might give Channing the wrong impression—but on the other hand, I didn’t want to slum it in a greasy spoon diner (despite that being my favorite) in case Channing thought I didn’t want to make an effort for him.

Of course, less than a couple hours after seeing Channing again, I was already overanalyzing every single facet of our interactions.

Easy there, Reagan. Talking myself down usually worked. But I didn’t usually have someone like Channing sitting across from me. He’d cut his hair, letting it flop in loose waves and curls that framed his angular face. His eyes seemed to have darkened, deep sapphires that twinkled and demanded my attention.

So much of him had changed in the three years since I’d seen him last. It wasn’t just his body, either, though fuck me, he looked so good. No, it was also the straight set of his shoulders and how his gaze didn’t dart to his feet when I spoke to him. Instead, he met my looks evenly, pinning me with those intense eyes, and my stomach felt as if it would drop through the floor each time.

He’d be twenty-one in July. Only a few weeks away. So, so young still. And I was an old man in comparison. Which meant that it didn’t matter that my mouth dried out as I looked at the strong curve of his shoulders, or that my heart lurched into my throat with every smirk he tossed me. This isn’t on the table for you.

No matter how much I’d like it to be.

“Tell me about school,” I requested, picking up a dumpling with my chopsticks to keep myself busy as Channing spoke.

Channing chewed on a bite of seaweed salad before answering.